


Adrift

by Persiflage



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Action & Romance, Away Missions, Clothed Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, First Kiss, First Time, Inspired by Star Trek: Voyager, Michael is canonically bossy, Near Death Experiences, POV Character of Color, PoV Michael Burnham, Pre-Canon, Shenzhou Era, Vaginal Fingering, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-18 23:14:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20321122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: Shenzhou era: returning from an Away Mission, Michael and Philippa have a near death experience that clarifies their feelings for each other.





	Adrift

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't a Star Trek Fusion fic, but I'm not going to lie, I cribbed this situation from Voyager's Day of Honour and re-worked it for Michael and Philippa.

“Captain, I am detecting fast moving ion turbulence ahead. It could be the beginnings of an ion storm. I am attempting to navigate around it.”

“Understood, Number One.” 

Michael notes that Philippa’s manner is as calm as her own, and she feels a familiar sense of satisfaction that always comes over her when the Captain places her trust in Michael’s skills. She has been the First Officer for three years, and the working relationship which she and Philippa Georgiou have developed in that time is close, friendly, and based on a mutual esteem of each other’s skillsets. The fact that she is hopelessly in love with the other woman is somewhat less comfortable, but Michael’s realisation that she felt that way has been with her for some four and a half years, and by this time she has taught herself to ignore it for the most part – despite having grown very much more Human in her outlook and manner, logic is still the primary influencer on her behaviour, rather than her emotions.

The shuttle begins to shake, and Philippa asks, “Report, Number One.”

“The ion turbulence is rapidly increasing in strength and magnitude, Captain. I am unable to plot a course around it owing to the speed at which it is expanding. We will have to fly through it in order to reach the _Shenzhou_.”

“Very well. Do your best, Michael, as you always do.” Philippa clasps her right forearm and squeezes it emphatically, but not too hard, and Michael feels a flood of warmth throughout her body in response.

“Aye, Captain,” she says, ignoring the warmth, and the fact that the other woman has yet to move her hand from Michael’s arm. 

The shuttle’s shaking is intensifying, despite Michael’s best efforts at the helm, and Philippa asks, “Are we within transporter range of the _Shenzhou_ yet?”

“Negative, Captain.” Michael has to raise her voice a little as the computer begins issuing warning messages:

“_Warning. Structural integrity field has been compromised. Now at fifty three percent and falling. Hull breach in two minutes twenty seconds._”

“I’m going to reroute power from the propulsion and weapons systems,” Michael says, and notes with a corner of her mind that the Captain’s grip on her arm has tightened.

“_Warning. Hull breach in two minutes ten seconds._”

“No effect,” Michael reports.

“_Warning. The structural integrity field has collapsed. Hull breach in two minutes._” 

“We have to get out of here,” the Captain says, releasing her grip on Michael’s arm and standing up.

“_Warning. Hull breach in one minute fifty seconds._”

Michael follows Philippa into the aft compartment of the shuttle where they break out the environmental suits and don them rapidly.

“Computer, send a distress call to the _Shenzhou_. Give them our coordinates.” Michael notes there was no confirmatory chirp from the computer. “Computer, respond.”

“The comm systems must be down,” Philippa says. “Probably because of the ion storm that’s rapidly building up out there.”

“The transporters are still online, at least for the moment. Stand by to energise,” she says, and the Captain nods. “Energise.”

Moments later the two of them materialise at the furthest distance from the rear edge of the ion storm that Michael could calculate in the time she had available. They appear just in time to see the shuttle explode in the midst of the ion storm.

“Burnham to _Shenzhou_. Do you read me? Please respond.” After a beat, Michael repeats, “Burnham to _Shenzhou_. Do you read me? Please respond.”

“It's no use,” Philippa says. “The comm system in these suits won't carry that far.”

“When we don’t make it back within a couple of hours of our stated time of arrival, they will come looking for us.” 

“Well, I don't plan on drifting here hoping that someone will just come along and rescue us. There must be something we can do.” Philippa sounds less calm now, and Michael feels concerned when she remembers that the Captain doesn’t do EVs as a rule because she gets sick in zero-G.

“I have an idea,” she says. “If I interplex the comm systems in both suits I might be able to create a phased carrier wave. The _Shenzhou_ would read the signature and know it's from us. 

“Good idea.” The Captain sounds like she’s struggling with her nausea.

“Let me access your controls,” Michael says, and pulls carefully on Philippa’s lifeline to draw her closer so that she can access the comm system’s controls on her Captain’s suit. “Put your arm around me, please, so that you don’t drift away from me before I’m finished.”

Philippa huffs a sound that might be a laugh. “If you wanted me to hug you, Commander, you only had to ask.”

Michael chuckles weakly, trying not to think too much about how nice it feels when the Captain wraps an arm around her, even through their bulky EV suits. She sighs. “This would be easier if I had a hyper spanner. Or didn’t have my fingers encased in bulky gloves.”

“Be as quick as you like, Number One,” Philippa says.

“Working on it,” Michael assures her, her fingers tapping a careful sequence on the control panel on the left arm of Philippa’s suit. “This is going to be painful to our ears,” she warns, then taps the final button, and the suits emit a shrill and piercing sound that seems to drill right through Michael’s brain. 

Philippa shudders in Michael’s arms, the Commander having wrapped her arms around her Captain as soon as she finished with her suit controls. It’s a rather awkward embrace, but Michael doesn’t care – if being held helps Philippa’s nausea, then she will gladly hold her for as long as necessary. 

A few minutes after Michael sent off their carrier wave a bright burst of light almost blinds them. 

“What was that?” asks Philippa weakly.

“Ion turbulence from the storm,” Michael says. “It’s still increasing in magnitude.”

The computer in the Captain’s EV suit startles them by announcing, “_Warning. Oxygen level at one hundred fourteen millibars._”

“My oxygen supply is leaking,” Philippa says, sounding disbelieving.

“_Warning. Oxygen level at ninety three millibars._” 

“We'll have to share mine,” Michael says, and plugs her oxygen pipe into Philippa’s chest unit. “Are you getting air now?”

“Yes. Much better, thanks,” the Captain says. Then, “What's wrong?”

“The turbulence must have damaged my suit too. I should have at least twenty four hours worth of oxygen, but there's only about a half hour left.”

They continue to drift, their arms wrapped around each other, and Michael would think it quite serene and beautiful were it not for the knowledge that they could well end up being dead in less than thirty minutes unless the _Shenzhou_ arrives soon.

“I'm going to lower the oxygen ratio,” Michael says after a little while. “That should give us a few more minutes.” 

“I'm feeling kind of groggy,” Philippa says.

“That’s the oxygen deprivation.”

“And you're lowering it?”

“We have to try to make it last as long as possible.” She tightens her arms around the Captain. “Philippa, there’s something I need to tell you, in case we don’t make it out of here.”

“Commander Saru will get here, Number One,” Philippa says.

“He might not,” Michael says. “We have no way of knowing if our carrier wave signal will have been strong enough to reach the _Shenzhou_.”

Before she can continue, her suit computer announces, “_Warning. Oxygen level at one hundred four millibars._” 

“I have faith in your adjustments, Michael,” Philippa says weakly.

“_Warning. Oxygen level at eighty seven millibars._” 

“There's something I have to say,” Michael says. 

“Me too,” Philippa says. “I'm glad the last thing I'll see is you.”

Michael is startled – less by the sentiment than her Captain saying these words to her. 

“_Warning. Oxygen level at seventy one millibars._” 

“In that case, then, Captain, I have to tell you the truth.”

“The truth about what?” asks Philippa. She sounds so groggy, Michael thinks worriedly.

“I love you.”

“You picked a funny time to tell me, Number One.” There’s a hint of humour in her voice, despite the weakness of her response.

The next moment a very welcome voice speaks over Michael’s suit comm. “_Shenzhou_ to Commander Burnham. Burnham, do you read me? Respond.”

“We're here,” Michael gasps, surprised and relieved.

“Prepare to beam aboard, Commander,” Saru says. Then, “I trust you have the Captain with you?”

“I do,” Michael agrees, and clasps her more tightly; she suspects Philippa is now unconscious given her lack of a reaction to the arrival of her beloved ship.

MB-PG-MB-PG-MB

Several hours later, after Doctor Nambue is satisfied with her recovery, Michael is in her quarters, sitting with her legs in a half lotus and her spine ramrod straight. She is dressed in a tank and her uniform pants, and is barefoot. She’s attempting to meditate on the events of the day and trying not to worry about whether or not she’s destroyed her relationship with her Captain, when her door chimes.

“Enter.”

Philippa enters. She’s got her hair loose and her uniform jacket is half unzipped, and she looks a little weary, but otherwise okay, and Michael knows Doctor Nambue well enough to know that Captain or no, he wouldn’t have released Philippa from his Sickbay unless he was satisfied as to her physical recovery.

“Michael.”

“Captain.” Michael gets to her feet, then tucks her hands behind her back, clasping them tightly to prevent them from trembling.

“I think we need to talk,” Philippa says.

“There is little to say, Captain,” Michael says firmly. “We were both oxygen deprived and feared we were about to die. Consequently, we said things that would have been better left unsaid.”

Philippa raises her eyebrows. “That’s what you think, is it?” 

Michael nods.

“You’re wrong.” Before Michael can formulate a response to that, Philippa takes the two steps necessary to close the distance between them, then lifts her hands to frame Michael’s face and brings her mouth close to Michael’s. “Tell me not to kiss you and I’ll leave, and we’ll never discuss this again.”

Michael reaches up to clasp the back of her Captain’s neck, then brings her mouth to Philippa’s a little more forcefully than is strictly necessary, and kisses her, teasing her lips apart so that she can stroke her tongue across the roof of the other woman’s mouth.

Philippa groans, then begins kissing her even more fiercely as she backs Michael against the wall and presses a leg between the young woman’s legs. Which makes Michael groan and tighten her clasp on the back of Philippa’s neck. Her Captain presses her leg even more firmly between Michael’s and the young woman bucks her hips, rutting against Philippa’s leg until she climaxes with a sharp cry.

Her Captain presses her forehead against Michael’s as they both try to get their breathing back under control. Then Michael unfastens Philippa’s pants and slips her hand inside them and her underwear to cup her lover’s sex, her middle finger pressing against her lips. 

“I think it’s only fair for me to return the favour, _Captain_,” Michael says, a teasing note in her voice.

“Very well, _Number One_.”

Michael smirks against Philippa’s mouth, then spins them around, pressing her lover against the wall, and pressing her middle finger inside her slick heat. “You’re so wet already, Captain. Is this for me?”

“Yes,” Philippa says with a gasp as Michael begins to thrust her finger slowly in and out of her. 

“How deliciously naughty of you, _Philippa_.” Her Captain groans at the tone of Michael’s voice, somehow dark and knowing. “And how long has my Captain been wanting to fuck her First Officer?”

“Michael.” Philippa groans out her name, and she withdraws her finger, eliciting a whimper of protest.

“How long, Captain?”

“Three years, four months, and four days,” Philippa says, then gasps when Michael reinserts her finger and resumes thrusting. “How long has it been for you?”

“Four years, six months, and two days,” Michael says, and adds a second finger on her next in-thrust. Philippa grunts, but tilts her pelvis forward, and Michael knows she’s done the right thing by adding a second finger.

“So long,” the Captain says, then cries out when Michael pinches her nipple. She suspects Philippa hadn’t even noticed her First Officer unzipping her uniform jacket or insinuating her hand beneath her tee.

Michael picks up the pace of her thrusts and feels Philippa’s inner muscles beginning to tighten around her fingers. “That’s it, my love,” she murmurs against her lover’s mouth. “Come for me. You feel so delicious around me, and I want to feel you come while I’m inside you.” She tweaks her other nipple, then half twists it, eliciting another cry. “I know you’re close, love, so don’t hold back.”

“Give me another finger,” Philippa rasps. “You feel so good inside me, but I need more.”

“As you wish, Captain.” Michael adds a third finger the next time she slides back inside Philippa, and her lover groans loudly, then tightens her inner muscles as her hips buck away from the wall. Michael groans nearly as loudly as she feels Philippa’s juices soaking her fingers as she climaxes. Her Captain wraps her arms around her and pulls her body flush against her own.

“Thank you, Michael,” she says. “You fucked me beautifully.” She kisses Michael passionately, then nips at her lower lip. “Let’s make use of your bed for the next round, shall we?”

“A logical move, Captain,” Michael says with a little smirk.

Philippa rolls her eyes, then eases Michael’s body back from her own and guides her backwards across the room to the bed. She tumbles her First Officer down onto the bed, and Michael pulls her Captain down after her, and they proceed to strip out of their clothes, tossing everything onto the floor alongside the bed.

“I must admit, Michael, that I wasn’t expecting you to get so commanding with me.”

Michael feels herself flush. “I apologise, Captain. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Oh love, that wasn’t a complaint.” Philippa cups her cheek. “I enjoyed it. It was exciting to be given orders.”

“Really?” Michael asks a little sceptically.

“Really, my love.” Philippa’s tone is sincere and her gaze steady, and Michael accepts that the other woman really means it.

“Very well, Captain.” 

“And now I’m going to repay you,” Philippa says. “I want to make you come while I’m inside you.”

“Yes,” Michael says immediately. “Yes, please.” 

Her Captain and lover chuckles, then leans down to kiss her, and Michael kisses back equally passionately as Philippa slides inside her and begins to move her fingers at a glacially slow pace. Her thumb teases Michael’s clit, making her lower body buck up off the bed.

“Philippa. Please.” 

“Please what, Michael?”

“Please make me come as you came.”

“It will be my pleasure.” She lowers her head to suck on one of Michael’s nipples, and begins to thrust her fingers at an increased speed. Only a short time later Michael climaxes.

Afterwards they sprawl on the bed, spent and sated, Philippa’s body half draped prone over Michael’s. 

“Will you stay with me?” Michael asks quietly. “Spend the night in my bed?”

“I’d like that very much,” Philippa agrees in a murmur.

“As would I.” She presses a kiss to the top of her lover’s head, then grabs the bedding and drags it up over them. Michael feels herself drifting into sleep and smiles with pleasure as she curls her arm around Philippa. Overall today has been an incredibly interesting and satisfying day.

**Author's Note:**

> _Day of Honour_ is written by Jeri Taylor.


End file.
